


a single word (can make a heart open)

by sarcastic_fina



Category: Smallville, Supernatural, teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Ficlet Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 23:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9210788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcastic_fina/pseuds/sarcastic_fina
Summary: A collection of short fics involving Chloe Sullivan and various partners.[1] things you said with no space between us - Chloe/Jax Teller[2] "beginning" / "deal" / "chances" / "infinity" / "pie"  - Chloe/Dean Winchester[3] high school, no super powers - Chloe/Oliver Queen[4] "goodbye" - Chloe/Dean[5]  things you didn't say at all - Chloe/Jax[6] "Bamboleo" - Chloe/Dean[7] gif prompt - Chloe/Jax[8] things you said too quietly - Chloe/Oliver[9] things you didn't say at all [take two - unrelated to the first] - Chloe/Jax[10] "toxic" - Chloe/Dean[11] "married" - Chloe/Jax[12] "sacrifice" - Chloe/Dean





	1. things you said with no space between us [Chloe/Jax]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **prompt** : things you said with no space between us - [purplemoon123](http://sarcasticfina.tumblr.com/post/155428119372)

They’re laying next to each other on top of a picnic table, shoulder to shoulder, staring at a sky full of stars. The wood is cold beneath her back, prickling at her skin through the thin fabric of her shirt, but her side, close enough to his that there’s so space between them, is warm. 

“You ever wish on ‘em?” he wonders. 

“I’m not _eight_.” 

He laughs, a huff of a noise that rattles his chest. “You don’t gotta be eight to have hope.” 

She frowns. “How’s it go…? ‘ _Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder where you are, wish I may, wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight_ …’”

“Sounds like you know it pretty well for someone who doesn’t wish on ‘em.” 

With a snort, she turns her head to look at him, and finds he’s already looking at her. The moonlight casts shadows that dance in the hollows of his face and his neck. “What about you?” 

“What about me?” His voice grows quieter, kept between the small space between them. If she focuses, she can feel his breath on her mouth. 

“Do you ever wish?” 

He stares at her a long moment, and then his gaze moves to her lips. “Sometimes.” 

“Yeah?” Her heart trembles in her chest. “You think the stars will come through?” 

His mouth turns up faintly at the corner. “Not in this lifetime.” 

She swallows tightly. “Why?” 

“Good people get wishes. Not so sure I’m headed that way.” 

“You’re the one driving.” 

His smile widens. “Sure about that?” 

She licks her lips. “One way to find out.” 

The moment lingers, heavy and tense, and then he turns his head back up, looks at the sky, and laughs. Short and quiet. Before she can ask him what it is he finds funny, he turns himself over onto his side, his hand sliding across her stomach and folding over her hip, tugging at her until she mirrors him. She props her head on one hand and raises an eyebrow. “Well?” 

“You’ve got a patience problem,” he says. 

Chloe scoffs, ready to argue, but then his fingers are tucking her hair back behind her ear and stroking her neck. For the first time in her life, words escape her. They run and hide and leave her there, speechless and tongue-tied. 

And then Jax is right there, the tip of his nose bumping hers, and his lips ghosting over hers, close but not quite there. “Two-way road here, Chlo.” 

She hums, her eyes half-lidded as she stares at him. “Guess I can meet you half-way…” 

He starts to smile, but it’s lost in a kiss that sends her head spinning. And she’s not going to say something cheesy, like it was written in the stars or whatever, but hey, it’s a wish come true all the same. 


	2. "beginning" / "deal" / "infinity" / "pie" / "chances"  [Chloe/Dean Winchester]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **prompt** : "beginning" - [puffabilly](http://sarcasticfina.tumblr.com/post/19494789745)  
>  **prompt** : "deal" - [puffabilly](http://sarcasticfina.tumblr.com/post/19495359550)  
>  **prompt** : "infinity" - [vandominia](http://sarcasticfina.tumblr.com/post/23434624184)  
>  **prompt** : "pie" - [nitefang](http://sarcasticfina.tumblr.com/post/23441119963)  
>  **prompt** : "chances" - [summerpipedream](http://sarcasticfina.tumblr.com/post/19499774488)

**prompt** : "beginning" 

She stuck the gun in the back of her jeans like an old pro; he couldn’t gather any guilt for that. For everything she’d been through and everything that brought her here, to him.

Instead, he took her hand as he stood from yet another cheap hotel room bed. Their fingers curled together as they walked out, duffel bags over their shoulders, to the shiny, black Impala waiting in the parking lot.

He thanked whatever fucked up tragedy brought him this small reprieve, that brought him Chloe Sullivan in all her snarky, kick ass glory. And he silently begged whatever dick was pulling his puppet strings that he wouldn’t screw up this new beginning, ‘cause he was putting what little hope he had left in her.

 

* * *

 

 **prompt** : "deal"

Chloe staunched the blood with one hand and squeezed the trigger with the other.

Dean caught her on her way down, ignoring the demon that lay sparking, dead, on the floor just feet from them.\

“It’s just a flesh wound,” she laughed.

His face said different; his face always said too much.

As she gargled on blood, she said only four words, “Don’t make a deal."

But, she knew he wouldn’t listen.

 

* * *

 

 

 **prompt** : "infinity"

Some days, the pain and the blood shed and bad luck, it seemed infinite. Endless. Just a cycle of death and gore without reprieve. And when Chloe walked into his life, Dean painted a bulls-eye on her head and waited for somebody to hit it, because that’s just what happened to the people they got close to. But, then a year passed and then two and three and ten, and they had a daughter who grew up more accustomed to a sawed off than a Barbie. There were scrapes and bruises, gunshot and stab wounds galore, but somehow, maybe to make up for all the bullshit of his life, she miraculously made it through, and that void his life was so accustomed to was filled with hope and love and family.

 

* * *

 

 

 **prompt** : "pie"

Chloe found him in the Impala, asleep, an empty pie pan on his lap and crumbs all over his chest, as well as some filling stuck to his chin.

With a fond smile, she climbed into the passenger side and reached across to dust him off, raising a brow when he startled awake.

Seeing her, he stretched out a little and sighed a sleepy, “Hey."

To which, she scoffed, “Don’t you ‘hey’ me, you went out for pie and then never shared any!”

Dean, being Dean, grinned. “I bought  _two_ ,” he said, but when she looked around wonderingly, he added, “I ate it, too."

Before she could do much more than shout his name, he kissed her, leaning her back on the bench seat to the sound of her murmuring, “You taste like cherries…”

And then pie was the last thing on her mind.

 

* * *

 

 

 **prompt** : "chances" 

“What are the chances?” Dean wondered to himself.

A reporter broke away from the pack and started toward him, ducking under the caution tape before she stepped into the street, her heels clicking against the pavement. The red and blue lights of the cop cars blocking the road glinted off her white blouse, tucked into an attractive black pencil skirt. Her blonde brow cocked and her hips swayed tantalizingly. 

Dean dragged a hand over his mouth and cleared his throat, standing up a little straighter, much to his brother’s amusement.

Eyes bright with more excitement than he’d felt in a long time, he grinned at her. “Chloe Sullivan,” he said with affection.

She smiled back. “Dean Winchester,” she said in the same tone.

Sam looked between them in confusion.

Not bothering to explain, or even look at him, the two continued between themselves.

“Your kind of deal?” she asked, motioning her thumb back at the crime scene.

Dean nodded, frowning slightly. “You got it, sister.”

With an understanding half-smile, she offered, “Give me the scoop after and I’ll buy you a beer…?”

“You’re on,” he said, voice a little deeper.

With a wink, she turned on her heel and walked away, rejoining the fray of reporters and police officers, casting one last glance back at them.

Sam’s brows hiked wonderingly, waiting impatiently for Dean’s explanation.

“Shut up,” was all his older brother muttered before straightening out his suit jacket and double-checking his pocket for his fake FBI badge. “Let’s get this solved…” He added with a smirk, “I gotta date!”

Rolling his eyes, Sam followed.

Four days later, Dean met up with Chloe at the local bar to swap stories and beer. Two hours after that, Sam found himself sleeping in the Impala so they could _properly_ reminisce. It wasn’t until the next day over stale coffee and diner food that Dean filled him in, and since Chloe was joining them instead of slinking out the door at dawn like most of Dean’s previous conquests, Sam figured he’d be seeing a lot more of her.

He was right.


	3. high school, no powers [Chloe/Oliver]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **prompt** : AU setting: high school no super powers, just regular teens - [astolenmoonlight](http://sarcasticfina.tumblr.com/post/27172436308)

“Not bad, Professor, I think you’ve got a Pulitzer coming to you sooner than you think,” Oliver said, twirling in the chair at her desk, her latest article in his hands, while she stood across the office, gathering up the various articles her staff had dropped off with her to fact and spell check over the weekend.

With a snort, she rolled her eyes affectionately. “I don’t think our high school newspaper is going to draw that much attention, Ollie, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Shrugging, he stood up and circled the desk, waving the article at her as he swung an arm around her waist and drew her in close. “Just a stepping stone, right?” he said, bending to nuzzle her nose with his. He tipped her chin up with his finger so they were eye to eye. “But I _guarantee_ when the Gazette looks at the kind of amazing writing you were doing while you were still in  _high school_ …?” He shook his head, looking more than a little in awe of her talent. “They’re going to snatch you up and never let you go!” He smirked then. “A little like me, when you think about it.”

Laughing, Chloe rolled her eyes at him, dropping the extra articles to her desktop before wrapping her arms around his neck. “Between you and the Gazette, that’s a big dream come true…” She smiled gently as she tilted her chin so their mouths were closer. “What more could a girl ask for?”

With a faint chuckle, he leaned down to kiss her.

The door burst open as soon as their lips met, however, and Tess came in, her red hair pulled into a ponytail. “Oh, sorry, uh…” She paused, looking between them like she thought maybe she should just back out of the room and leave it at that. But with a shake of her head, she plunged forward, “Chloe? I just got a big tip about someone dumping oil drums of something suspicious at the docks…” She threw her hands up in anger. “Forgetting that it’s every shade of illegal, do they have any idea what that’s going to do to the eco system?” Her hands found her hips. “I already talked to AC; we’re gonna go check it out… You in?”

Chloe half-smiled at Tess, her resident go-to girl for anything environmental that the paper might need. “I think you and AC got this one,” she said with a hint of a smirk, thinking of the obvious chemistry between her two ocean-loving friends. “But if you need anything, you’ve got my number!”

With a raised brow, Tess glanced at Oliver. “Yeah, I can see you’ll be running to help,” she teased.

“Don’t you and AC have a date with a picket sign screaming Save the Whales?” Oliver said, impatiently.

Rolling her eyes, Tess frowned at him. “Your concern is  _touching_ ,” she muttered. Turning back to Chloe, she told her, “All right, we’ll call… If the tip turns up anything, I guarantee something good for Monday’s edition,” she promised before backing out the door.

Chloe smiled at her, giving a quick nod. “Looking forward to it.”

As Tess left them alone, Oliver’s arms at her waist tightened. “Where were we?” he suggested.

“Mm, somewhere between a dream come true and a kiss to seal the deal…”

Grinning, he nodded. “I can do that,” he said, swooping forward to meet her lips. 

This time, there was no interruption, and Chloe was well on her way to happily ever after.


	4. "goodbye" [Chloe/Dean]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **prompt** : goodbye (because I WANT ANGST OKAY?) - [faramile](http://sarcasticfina.tumblr.com/post/29674828915)

Chloe glared through her tears, swiping angrily at her face. “You know I never thought I’d say this, Dean, but you’re a  _coward!_ ”

He didn’t reply, though his jaw twitched, instead continuing to fill his duffel bag with the clothes a dresser drawer of hers used to fill, more and more of his t-shirts and jeans collecting over the years. He moved on to the stereo, careful not to look at her though he could see her out of the corner of his eye, leaning in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. He grabbed up his CD’s - Zeppelin, Blue Oyster Cult, ACDC, all ‘mullet rock’ as she and Sammy liked to call it - and dropped them inside of the open bag on the bed. He was trying to focus, to just get it all and get out before he let it get to him.

But he paused when he reached a picture of them, laughing, sitting at the table in Bobby’s kitchen. He had a beer in hand, balanced on his knee, her fingers curled affectionately around his other forearm. She was smiling, mid-laugh at something Sam, out of sight, was saying, but her warm eyes were on Dean. Her cheeks were flushed, her blonde hair falling in waves to her shoulders. God, she was beautiful.

He glanced at her, but her eyes were on the floor, her brow knit. He grabbed the picture along with another CD and tucked them in his bag, careful not to let her see.

When he ran out of things to grab, leaving the stones carved with protection symbols on her dresser next to the silver bowl she kept her earrings and the necklace he bought for their anniversary last year, he finally walked back to the bed and hauled the bag up and over his shoulder, the weight of it heavy against his hip.

He stared down for a second at the bedspread, the one she’d dragged him through two different stores to find.

[“You’ve been sleeping on those scratchy motel sheets, Dean. When you come home, I want it to be in a bed so soft you never want to leave…” she told him, smirking suggestively. 

He laughed. “Sweetheart, just knowing _you’re_ in the bed makes me homesick.”]

Curling his hand into a fist, he swallowed back the burning in his throat and closed his eyes against the sting. Scrubbing a hand down his mouth, he turned, looking just to the left of her eyes, not meeting them.

She blocked the door way, her hands on either side. “So what? This is it? This is how you say goodbye?” She stared up at him searchingly. “No explanation? You just blow into town one day and decide,  _what?_ Having a girlfriend is a hassle?”

He clenched his teeth. “Yeah,” he rasped, affecting a nonchalant expression. “That’s what I do.”

He left out the part where demon’s laughed her name like a victory when he ganked them. Where monsters suggested he had a weakness and were excited to find it. He left out the part where happiness never played into his life for long and she was one name he could keep from being added to the long list of victims he left in his wake.

He offered her a tilted smile, humorless. “Not really a long haul kinda guy.” He arched an eyebrow. “You knew that…”

“Right…” She dropped an arm but didn’t move. “I guess I got a little confused when you spent three years telling me you loved me and now you’re trying to write me off like I was just some clingy booty call you suddenly got tired of.”

He could hear the hitch in her voice and he wanted to correct her, ‘cause hell, Chloe Sullivan was anything _but_ a booty call. She hadn’t been since the day he met her and she called him on his monster hunting shit without so much as blinking an eye. But doing that meant explaining why he was leaving. And really, it was Chloe, she was the ultimate snoop, she’d figure it out eventually but by then he was hoping to be as far off the map as he could get from her quick little hacker’s fingers.

 _It’s for her own good_ \- a motto of his, repeated in his head.

[“Why don’t you let _me_ decide who my bedfellows are! Last I checked I was fully equipped to come to my own conclusions. Given, most of my ex’s weren’t monster-hunters… at least not in the literal sense.”

“Who even  _says_ bedfellows anymore?”

Her lips pursed. “Your topic-changing skills are a little rusty, Dean.”

He shifted his feet, frowning. “… _Your_ topic changing skills are rusty.”

She laughed. “Can we just agree that I’m a fully grown adult who can decide if she wants to date a hunter with his own deceptively compact baggage carrier of issues?”

“Dating’s a little hard when I’m constantly on the run and moving from state to state to stalk the things that go bump in the night…” he argued.

She shrugged. “Dating’s a little hard when I’m moonlighting as a babysitter to a band of superheroes, but I’m still willing to try.”

His eyes darted away before he finally sighed. “Fine. But if it ever gets to be too much, I get to say 'I told you so.’”

Her lips twitched. “Since you probably rarely ever get to say that with Sam around, all the power to you.”

He frowned, not sure if he should be happy or not.

Laughing, Chloe wrapped her arms around his neck. “I think this is a good time for celebratory relationship status sex.”

His head tipped as he nodded. “That sounds fun.”

“Even better?” She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “Somebody picked up celebratory after-sex pie!”

“You are my soul mate,” he told her, chuckling as he bent to kiss her.]

“I’d apologize, but I’m pretty sure your right hook is still gonna hurt,” he muttered, gripping the handle of his bag.

Her lips trembled as she opened her mouth to answer but no words left her, just a hitched cry.

His hand smoothed over her hip and squeezed. He licked his lips before he pressed a kiss against her temple and closed his eyes. He wanted to tell her she’d appreciate it later. She’d be better off without him. She’d move on, she’d hate him, she’d find some average joe with a nine-to-fiver that could give her everything she deserved. But the words, even if they were true, just wouldn’t come out.

So he breathed in the familiar scent of her hair and tried not to cringe when he felt one of her tears hit his cheek. And then he pushed past her, muttering, “I’m sorry,” under his breath, helpless to it, before he stalked toward the door, letting it slam behind him, trying to drown out the sound of her breaking down.

He threw his bag into the back of the Impala and swiped quickly at his face before he climbed into the driver’s seat, his shaking hands fisting the steering wheel.

Sam was staring out the window, his arms crossed over his chest, stone-faced.

And he didn’t have to say anything, Dean could hear Sammy’s voice in his head, telling him it was a mistake, that he was an idiot. He silently agreed, but he turned the ignition anyway and pulled out onto the road. 

It didn’t matter that he bought an engagement ring three months ago with his combined poker and pool shark winnings, burning a hole in the inside pocket of his leather jacket. What mattered was that he had too many enemies and he was only going to keep making them. His eyes fell on the rear-view mirror and he stared at her apartment building getting smaller and smaller until it was gone completely. 

[“Did it hurt?”

“I swear to God, Dean, if you throw out a cheesy line right now…” Chloe groaned, rolling her eyes.

“Shut up…” he muttered. He brushed her hair off her shoulder and peeled back the bandage, examining the knife wound that’d been stitched up recently. “You see what it was?”

“Black eyes, knife, might’ve tossed your name out there in between his righteous ramblings…” She shrugged, wincing when her stitches pulled. “Can I just reiterate the part where I kicked demon ass?”

He rolled his eyes, but rubbed his hand down her arm soothingly. “Yeah…” His brows furrowed as he focused again on the jagged flesh before he covered it, smoothing out the tape from the bandage. He scrubbed his chin against the nape of her neck before pressing a kiss at the crook and breathed her in, feeling the panic that had been running through him since he’d gotten the call that she’d been attacked ebb only slightly. He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. “For the record, that’s a solid line…”

She laughed. “Really? You know real angels, most of which were, in Cas’s words, _asshats,_  and you want to suggest I fell from heaven?”

He grinned. “If the halo fits, sweetheart!”

She scoffed. “You are  _so_ sleeping on the couch.”

He grinned, nuzzling her cheek. “No, I’m not. You love me.”

“Fine, but I’m hogging the blankets.”

His brows furrowed. “How’s that new?”

She slapped his shoulder before turning and forcing him to fall back on the bed. “Thin line, Winchester.”

He licked his lips and stared up at her, perched in his lap. Crossing his arms behind his head, he dropped his eyes and told her sincerely, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“What’s one more scar?” she dismissed, leaning down until she was just a few inches from his mouth. “Promise me this isn’t going to be a thing with you…” She stared at him searchingly. “I get hurt, I live, rinse and repeat.” She shook her head. “This is my life, it always has been. Again, I point out the superhero history.” She raised an eyebrow. “This is not new, okay?”

He ground his teeth but eventually let his eyes meet hers and offered a crooked smile. “Not a thing. Got it.”

“Good.” She kissed him, dragging her tongue against his bottom lip and biting lightly until he returned it, burying his fingers in her hair and keeping her close. “Yay for Chloe, she kicked demon butt, sex?” she suggested in between slanting kisses.

He grinned. “I brought glad-you-survived pie!”

She laughed, shaking her head. “If it’s cherry, you’re my soul mate,” she told him dramatically on a sigh.

It was cherry.]


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **prompt** : things you didn’t say at all - [anonymous](http://sarcasticfina.tumblr.com/post/142560538957)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This uses my "Daughter of Anarchy" 'verse, but isn't an actual part of it. So, Chloe is Piney's daughter and Opie's sister. she and Jax have known each other their whole lives and have spent the last year or so in a relationship, but Chloe's leaving for Metropolis to follow her dream of becoming a reporter for The Daily Planet.

Her bags are packed with every thing she has that ever mattered. They’re overflowing with books and tapes and clothes and photo albums. She’s already said her goodbyes to her dad and the guys at the club, to Gemma and Lois too. She’s still got a hangover from the going-away party. She’s got a .45 in her bag from Chibs and two knives from Tig, not that she expects to need them in Metropolis, but they felt better knowing she was safe. 

Opie is leaning against the fence, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He’s not looking at her, staring off into the distance for the most part. His brow is furrowed, forehead wrinkled, and he’s got that look that means he’s thinking hard but he’s not sure how to put thought into words. She gets it. They’ve been side by side her whole life. It’s not like she won’t miss it, miss him. He’s her brother, her best friend, and he has been since the moment Piney laid her in his tiny arms. He’s looked out for her and loved her and guided her through so much of her life, she’s not sure what it’s going to be like without him there. But she’s going to find out. 

“You just gonna keep holding that fence up or are you gonna hug me goodbye?” 

He turns his eyes to her, stares a second, and then he plucks his cigarette from his mouth, tosses it to the ground, and stamps it out as he blows a cloud of smoke into the air. Pushing off the fence, he crosses the space between them. “You’re sure you want this?” 

She grins up at him. “Aren’t you the one who bought me a typewriter for just this reason?” 

“Sure.” He nods. “Was kind of hoping you’d stick around here though. Write a book or something. Not pack up and never look back.” 

“I’ll look back. _A lot_. And you can visit me, anytime, _every_ time.” 

He laughs, a huff of a thing, and then he nods. He takes a deep breath, lets it out on a sigh, and pulls her into a hug. And Chloe closes her eyes when they sting. She buries her face against his chest and wraps her arms around his waist, holding on tight. He smells like cigarette smoke and cologne and leather and the open road and _Opie_. When he pulls back, she swipes at her face and laughs to hide how her heart is thick in her chest. 

He cups a hand around the back of her head and pulls her in, kisses the top of her forehead, whiskers scratching at her skin, and then releases her. “You talk to him?” 

She clears her throat and shakes her head. “He didn’t show last night.” 

Opie chews his lip, scrapes his fingers through his beard. “It’s hard for him. He’s not good at goodbyes.” 

“Yeah. It’s fine.” She forces a grin, but it trembles. “I’ll call when I’m settled, okay?” 

He nods. “Drive safe.” 

She rolls her eyes, but her smile is more genuine now. Circling the car, she climbs into the driver’s side and takes a moment. She looks back at her childhood home, where her mom still lives but can’t be bothered to see her off. Pulling her seatbelt on, she turns the ignition, and lingers, fiddling with mirrors to give her an excuse not to leave. But then she hears Opie’s engine start and she looks back to see him on his bike. 

Taking a deep breath, she pulls her car away from the curb and starts down the road. He stays with her, riding right alongside the car, until they reach a crossroads. One way leads back to town, to the club, and the other to the highway. He looks back at her, catches her eye, and bows his head. Chloe nods back, and they turn in opposite directions. 

She tells herself she’s not crying, that she’s not sad or scared or regretting this in some way. But she is, and the tears are spilling faster and heavier than she expects. She’s well on her way out of town, passing the ‘Welcome to Charming’ sign. She takes a deep, gulping breath, shaking her head and telling herself it’s okay, to get it together, that this only hurts now, but it’ll fade, because it’s the right decision. 

She hears the engine before she ever sees him, but then the sun is glinting off the front of his bike, and he’s catching up fast. She wipes her hands over her cheeks and sniffs, brow furrowed.

Jax reaches the side of her car and waves at her to pull over. Stubborn, she wants to shake her head. He had his chance to say goodbye last night and he’d missed it. But her hands are turning the wheel before the thought can form completely, and then she’s idling, hands tight on the wheel, and he’s parked right behind her, still seated, pulling the helmet off and running his fingers through blond hair. 

Swallowing, she undoes her belt and pushes her door open, climbing out and squinting against the sun. “You lost, Jackie-boy? Charming is the other direction…” 

He’s striding toward her, mouth set in a serious line. 

“I can draw you a map, if you want. With a little X-marks-the-spot over the club for easier findi…” 

She trails off as he reaches her, hands sliding over her hips as he pulls her forward and his mouth slants over hers. Hard and hot. And her words scatter, her snark falls away. She reaches for him, hands grabbing onto the fabric of his sleeves and gripping tight. His fingers thread through her hair, cradle her head, and pull her closer, like she’s not already pressed to him so tight she swears she can feel his heart pound out of his chest and into hers. 

His teeth scrape at her lips and his tongue soothes the sting right after, and it’s a rough kiss. It’s full of want and desperation and loss and grief. His tongue writes ‘goodbye’ and ‘I’ll miss you’ and ‘don’t go’ inside her mouth and she swallows it down her throat, unsaid but wholly heard. And when they pull apart, his forehead presses to hers as they pant and hold on to each other and she’s crying now, she can’t pretend she isn’t. But he is too. She wipes a few tears away with her palms and cradles his face. 

He smiles at her, crooked and handsome and so beautiful it hurts. “Be happy,” he tells her, like a demand, like he needs to know that if he lets her go, it’s for a good reason. And part of her wants to tell him no, to come with her, that  _he_ makes her happy. But there is a whole world out there, there is a dream she’s been waiting to make real for so long and it’s just in reach. And Jax… He’s not made for Metropolis. He’s Charming, through and through. He’s SAMCRO. 

His hand is shaking as he strokes his fingers down her hair, and he squeezes just once, before he’s pulling her in, hugging her, face pressed to her hair. Maybe if they were younger, if they were still kids, if they didn’t love each other in a way that makes her heart twist up at the idea of not having him there, he’d rustle her hair and tell her it won’t be the same without Little Winston around. But they’re not kids anymore. She knows what it’s like to fall asleep with his heart under her ear, with his whole body wrapped around her, with his voice rumbling against her ear. She knows what it’s like to wake up to him kissing down her back, his fingers twining with hers, his hair dragging across her skin. She knows what it’s like to love and be loved by him, and she can’t believe anything will ever come close to or top that feeling. 

It could be seconds or minutes or hours before he lets go, but he does. He kisses her temple and her cheek and her mouth, and he rubs away her tears with his thumbs. And she knows this is it. This is the moment she walks away and she doesn’t look back, leaving him in her rear-view mirror, a memory. 

She stares up at him one last time, this boy she’s known her whole life. “Be good, Jackie-boy.” 

His mouth ticks up at the corner as he stares down at her. “I’ll try.” 

She smiles, and her eyes burn, but she blinks the tears back. Reaching out, she presses a hand to his chest, over his heart, and she pushes, just once. He falls back a step, grinning, and covers her hand, fingers running over her knuckles. He takes her hand up and kisses the tips of her fingers, and then he lets her go. 

She steps back, pulls her door open again, and hesitates just a second. And then she climbs inside and pulls her seatbelt on with shaky hands. He stands, hands in his pockets, and waits. 

She’s not sure if she’s waiting for him to say something, to ask her to stay, or if maybe she’s waiting for herself to change her mind. But neither happens, so she pulls back onto the road and she keeps going, keeps moving. _Away_. Until he’s nothing more than a distant point in her mirror. And maybe it’s the right choice, maybe it’s the best decision she’ll ever make. Maybe she’ll make a name for herself at The Daily Planet and know that it was always where she was meant to be. But right then, in that moment, she just wanted to turn back around. She wanted to go back to the Club, to her uncles and her dad, her brother and her best friend. To Jax. 

Instead, she drives, and she doesn’t stop. 


	6. "Bamboleo" [Chloe/Dean]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **prompt** : Chloe/Dean "Bamboleo" - [staydisconnected](http://sarcasticfina.tumblr.com/post/43709874805)

_Tu eres mi vida, la fortuna del destino_   
_Pero el destino tendressa para dos_   
_Lo mismo yo que ayer_   
_Lo mismo soy yo_   
_No te encuentro a labandon_   
_Es imposible no te encuentro de verdad_   
_Por eso un dia no cuentro si de nada_   
_Lo mismo you que ayer_   
_Yo pienso en ti…_

Dean’s brow furrowed at the music coming out of his stereo; it wasn’t something he’d usually listen to. For one thing, it wan’t English, and for another, it wasn’t rock. “The hell is this?” he grunted.

Chloe looked up from her laptop in the backseat, where she’d sprawled with her feet out the open window, wiggling her freshly painted toes in the faint breeze. She cocked her head, listened for a second, and told him, “Bamboleo, a Gypsy Kings song…” She  nodded, adding, “Lo used to blast it on the rare days she’d actually clean the apartment… Good for dancing to, I guess.”

He hummed, but he was still confused. “Why is it playing on my radio?”

“I found an old mix-tape, thought I’d give my ears a rest from all your mullet rock…”

His face screwed up and he turned around to stare at her, arm balanced on the back of his seat. “You think  _this_ is better than Motorhead?” he asked incredulously.

“I think a lot of things are better than Motorhead,” she muttered, before sighing as she pushed herself to sit up. “Listen, I found it in the suitcase _you_ let my cousin pack when you semi-kidnapped me for this hunt… I didn’t know what was on it, so don’t blame me for the Greatest Spanish Hits. The mere fact that we’re listening to cassettes and you won’t let me plug in my iPod makes this whole argument kind of moot.”

Pursing his lips, he looked away and muttered, “You’re…  _moot_.”

Rolling her eyes, she laid back down. “Did you call Sam?”

He nodded, facing forward once more and pushing the button to fast forward through the last of Bamboleo. “He’s gonna meet us there.”

She smiled. “Good.”

“Sick of my company already, sweetheart? You need your geeky research partner back?”

Chloe shook her head, amused. “I like you both equally.”

He scoffed under his breath and put the car into drive. “It’s okay, I get it, you two got the twin-egghead steak in you. Good to have another geek around who gets you.”

Her lips twitched. “Are you pouting because your brother is smart and can hold a conversation with me?”

“I can hold a conversation with you just fine,” he argued.

“Yeah, you can, so stop pouting.”

“Not pouting…”

“Dean…?” She closed her laptop and stared at the back of his head. “Just because I like you guys for different reasons doesn’t mean I like you any less than the other.”

He was quiet for all of a second before saying, “But I’m the better looking one though, right?”

She laughed, grinning widely. “On the grounds that you’d use that answer to pick on Sam, I’m not answering it.”

He smirked. “That means I am.”

Sitting back up, she rested her crossed arms on the back of the seat. “That means no more pouting, or complaining about my music…” She leaned over and kissed his cheek, adding, “Kidnapee picks the music, and kidnapper shuts his pie-hole." 

"Wouldn’t hold up in court,” he told her, turning his head, brow quirked.

She laughed, her brows hiked. “You were wanted by the FBI and are presumed dead, I think I’ll win it…”

“Didn’t even really kidnap you.” He nodded. “It was more like… strongly suggested you come along for the ride.”

Her eyes widened. “You picked me up outside of The Daily Planet, said we were going for lunch to catch up, and then proceeded to drive me out of the city before you explained _anything!_ ”

He gave it a second’s thought before grinning at her charmingly. “Yeah, but… I brought you pie.”

She snorted. “It was leftover from the night before,  _half_ eaten, and you still wanted the last bite!”

“You’re a hard woman to please…” he sighed.

Chloe shook her head and reached for the stereo, pressing down on a button.

“Hey, careful, it’s an old radio… What’re you doing?”

“I’m playing Bamboleo again, and this time I’m going to sing to it!” She stuck her tongue at him childishly.

He grumbled, arguing with her, but she slapped his hand away as he tried to stop her. As the song restarted, she sang at the top of her lungs, wiggling her hips. And, while Dean couldn’t say he loved the song, he did like having Chloe there; she always managed to make driving toward a murder scene somehow less depressing than it was. He didn't  _have_ to semi-kidnap her, but damn if it didn’t make his life just that much better when he did.


	7. gif prompt [Chloe/Jax]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **prompt** : i love your jax/chloe fic! can you write something cute and fluffy about them?? - [anonymous](http://sarcasticfina.tumblr.com/post/148667584592)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **gif credit** : [italianlady2](http://italianlady2.tumblr.com/post/137705523663)

It’s early morning. Curtains spread wide, the sun creeps across the floor, filling each and every dark corner. Chloe sits at the edge of the bed, watching its progress. She needs to go, she knows that, but her legs don’t move. She bends to grab up a shirt, grey and big and _his_. It’s loose on her, the neck just a little too wide, but it’ll do. She’s not sure where her clothes are. If she had to guess, she’d say the living room, scattered in every direction. It’d been fun at the time. It was always fun in the moment. But then reality would creep back in and tell her she shouldn’t be doing this.

Jax is one of her closest friends. He’s Opie’s _best_ friend. And if her brother found out she was sleeping with him, she can’t imagine it would go over well. And yet… Here she was. _Again_. She’s not sure she regrets it, exactly. She regrets what the fallout would be if anyone found out. That she could be putting Jax and Opie’s friendship at risk, and for what? _Lust_? Because that’s all this could be. She and Jax were easy. Safe. They knew each other, every good and awful thing about each other. She could still remember what he looked like with a juice ring around his mouth. How his voice cracked during puberty. That terrible haircut his mom gave him in third grade.

Falling into bed with him wasn’t an accident. She didn’t slip and fall in his lap and just let things progress. It had been a slow build up to an inevitable end. And it was good. Great, even. But ultimately doomed. He was still half in love with Tara and Chloe was packed and ready to leave town. She wanted out of Charming. She wanted her name in ink and a desk at the Daily Planet. She wanted a different kind of freedom than what he found on the back of a bike. They were just going in two different directions, and that was okay. It was probably for the best. At least she was knew what she was getting into here, that it wouldn’t end up going anywhere. Not really. Better to go in with open eyes. 

Suddenly, she felt his hand skim up her back and tug at the loose fabric of her shirt.

“S’early,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, it is.” She smiled, her eyes falling to her lap. “Go back to sleep.”

He hummed, and pushed up so he was resting on one elbow. “Never took you for an early bird, Chlo.”

“I am when I need to be.” She spotted her jeans, just outside the opened door, but she stayed put, staring at the tattered ends for a beat. “You have plans with Ope today?”

Jax groaned, and pressed his face to her back. “We really need to bring your brother into this? Right now?”

“He’s not going anywhere.” She turned her head to glance back at him. “I know he said something about working on a bike today. Is that with you?”

He shrugged, and dragged his fingers up her back to her shoulder.

Chloe bit her lip.

“If it is, it’ll be later. _Hours_ from now…” His fingers hooked in the neck of the shirt and pulled it down. His face fell to her back, warm cheek and nose pressed to her skin.

Her eyes fell shut and she let out a long breath.

“You think too much…” His voice was muffled, mouth scraping at her skin.

“Maybe I’m making up for how much you _don’t_.” 

He chuckled, and his hand slid up under her shirt to skim across her stomach. “I’m thinkin’ right now…” 

“Not with your brain.” 

Humming, he pressed a kiss to her back, resting his forehead there, and Chloe shook her head. 

“You know we can’t keep doing this.” 

“ _Why?_ ” It wasn’t playful, but serious, and her heart thudded in her chest. 

“Opie–” 

“Ope’s got Lois, you never kicked up shit about that.” 

“It’s different.” 

“How?”

“It just is.” She licked her lips. “You and Opie, all three of us, we’ve been friends since birth. I mean, I love Lois. She’s my best friend. But it’s different.” 

“You can’t live your life doing what other people want. What do _you_ want? Huh?” He pressed his hand down against her stomach, drawing her back. His chin tucked against the crook of her neck, nose nuzzling against her ear. “You want me or don’t you?” 

She swallowed tightly and bit down hard on her lip, her eyes falling to half-mast. “I…” 

His hand slid down to cup her between her thighs, and she let out a strangled noise, pushing her hips down as her head fell back against his shoulder. She reached down, covering his hand against her, his fingers stroking with purpose. “ _Jax_ …” 

He shuffled the shirt up a little higher, his free hand rubbing circles over her stomach. “Stay.” He bit at her neck, let his teeth graze her skin, and she licked her lips and leaned into his mouth. “Just today. We can figure tomorrow out _tomorrow_.” 

It wasn’t a solution, not really. It was just putting off the inevitable.She knew that, and so did he. But that didn’t stop her from opening her legs and nodding and lifting her arms as he pulled the shirt up and off. 

Today she’d stay. Today she’d have him. And tomorrow… Tomorrow she’d watch the sun creep into the room and hope reality didn’t follow.


	8. things you said too quietly [Chloe/Oliver]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **prompt** : things you said too quietly - [anonymous](http://sarcasticfina.tumblr.com/post/142556663362)

She knows, of the two of them, she is the more serious one. She gets focused on something and sometimes it’s hard for her to _un_ focus from it. And there are times when she prioritizes things, work especially, when maybe she shouldn’t. It’s a problem, she knows this. She’s just… She’s still getting used to this, being unplugged, being back in the general population, balancing a marriage with nightly heroics. So she forgets sometimes, that there are things she needs to do, and _should_ do, that matter. 

They have a date night. She knows this. It was her idea. One of her ‘hey, you’re right, I do work too much and I _do_ want to spend more time with you’ compromises. Except something came up just as she was on her way out, and while he was waiting at the restaurant for an hour and a half, she got distracted. She was buried in data, making leaps of imagination, connecting dots, and figuring out the next move of the villain of the week. Or few weeks, in this case. 

And then he’s standing there, with that half-smile, half frown of his. “Missed you at dinner, sidekick… Got a little lonely at a table meant for two. Probably ate more breadsticks than any mortal man should.” 

And she whirls in her chair, brows up and mouth ajar. She grabs papers from the printer, shoves them in his hand. “I’ve figured it out. The pattern. You remember I told you that there was something about which places he was hitting, but I was missing something. It was right in front of my face.” She grins up at him. “Do you know what this means?” 

“I think it means I might get featured on the front of the Star City Gazette for being stood up by my own wife… An inside source will probably even suggest I was crying on the inside. Maybe even a little on the outside.” 

“Ollie, focus.” She waves her hands. “We can catch this guy. The same guy we’ve been trading punny little jabs with while getting our asses handed to us. We can _catch_ him.” 

“Right.” He nods, mouth folded, and looks down at the paper. His throat bobs and then he reaches over, taps the papers against her shoulder. “Good work. I, uh, I think I’m gonna take a shower, get to bed early. Make sure I’m all rested up for catching the bad guy. _Tomorrow_. When it’s no longer date night.” He turns to leave and she watches him go. She can feel a tug in her chest, a pit in her stomach, and the feeling of being wrong, of making a mistake washes over her. 

Chloe’s worn her pride like a shield for as long as she can remember. It’s a shell, a cover, just like her snark. And Oliver, he’s worked so hard at getting through that, at showing her she doesn’t need it, not with him. But she still falls back into old habits, without even meaning to. Which is why it’s hard, to apologize, to admit that she should’ve powered down the computers for a night, even just a few hours, and spent some time with her husband. 

Instead, she bites her tongue and she folds her fingers into her hand until her nails bite at her skin, and she watches him walk away, defeat in the set of his shoulders. And it’s not until he’s out of range, until he can’t hear her, that she mutters, “I’m sorry.” Too quiet, and too late. 


	9. things you didn't say at all [Chloe/Jax]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **prompt** : things you didn't say at all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unrelated to the previous fic that had the same prompt!

The first time Jax goes to jail, he’s nineteen and he’s got a gun charge he can’t get around. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t scared. He’d heard stories and grown up listening to the guys tell tale of who they knew and how the right connections made things easy. But some guards can’t be bought and sometimes you just have to keep your head down. 

Jax spends most of his time working out, just trying to exhaust himself so the day will end that much quicker. His cell is cold and dark and he dreams of the open road every time his eyes close. 

He’s not expecting anyone to write. Visit, maybe, but only a select few. His mom comes up when she can and the club puts money into his commissary to keep him going. He figures that’s enough. But the letter surprises him. It shouldn’t.

_Jax,_

_You’re an idiot. That’s right, that’s exactly how I’m starting this letter. If the dictionary ever asks me to submit a picture to explain what ‘idiot’ means, I’m sending them your mugshot. Of all the ways to get caught! I mean, did you even try?_

_I could write two pages on all the ways you messed up, but I won’t. You know you screwed up. I maintain that you’re an idiot, but explaining why is a waste of ink. Besides, I say it with affection. As much affection as I can muster after you left me here to deal with a mopey Opie and a pissed Gemma._

_Don’t tell him I said this, but I’m not sure he knows what to do with himself without you around. He and Lois are fighting more, but they’ll survive. She’s just trying to get used to having so much of his time. He hasn’t worked on his bike since you went away. He mostly just hangs around the club. It’s depressing as hell._ _I took him out to the field to blow stuff up – completely legal, of course – but even that didn’t cheer him up. How much time do you have left? (too much)_

_You know what, I know I said I wouldn’t bitch at you, but I changed my mind… This sucks. I know I should’ve expected this. This is just the life. But it sucks. Because part of me knows that you’ll see this as a milestone, maybe even a defining part in becoming who you think you should be. I love the club, I respect every member of it, but I don’t want to write another letter like this. I don’t want to sit in another court room and listen to a judge sentence you. I don’t want to spend months or years of my life not having you around. And I know you’ll shrug it off and say it’s no big deal, but it is. Of all the places you could be right now, you’re in jail. I can’t see you or talk to you or smack you upside your stubborn head. And I hate that. I just, I really hate that._

_But I also know you. I know you’re loyal and you’re strong and you’re going to get through this and come home._

_So… I guess that’s all. I just wanted you to know that I’m here and I care and if you want to talk, call me or write me or put me on your visitation list and I’ll make the drive out there._

_Be safe, Jackie-boy,  
_ _  
\- Chloe_ __  


She never says she misses him, not in those exact words, but he can read between the lines. Just like how she never says she loves him, but he’s known that for a while, too. And he’s probably not worth it, her worry or her love, but that doesn’t stop him from carefully folding up her letter and tucking it under his pillow to read and reread again. Tomorrow, he’ll add her to the visitation list, just to smile when she calls him an idiot to his face.


	10. "toxic" [Chloe/Dean]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **prompt** : toxic - [summerpipedream](http://sarcasticfina.tumblr.com/post/29675634674)

“My ears are  _bleeding!_ ” Dean complained. “Turn that pop-shit off!”

Chloe’s laughed reached back to him. “Not until you admit I surprised you with how amazing my hunting skills are!”

He cursed loudly, but didn’t relent.

With a smirk, Chloe turned the dial up on the volume.

From the shower, unable to stop her, he yelled. “ _Britney Spears?_ “ he cursed. “This is a low blow, Chloe!”

Toxic rang out louder than ever until finally he called back, “ _Uncle!_ You weren’t bad!”

Her lips pursed. “Not bad is not ‘amazing’!”

She swore she could actually _feel_ him rolling his eyes at her right now, scrubbing shampoo into his hair, and mumbling to himself about how she was evil and he would have to douse her with holy water later to make sure.

“Fine. You were awesome, amazing, you could probably replace Sammy on a bad day!”

“ _Hey!_ “ Sam complained from across the room, where he was somewhere between amused that Chloe was winning against Dean and irritated that Britney Spears was currently invading the motel room.

Chloe shrugged. “Thank you.” She turned the dial down and switched it over to where Metallica was playing.

Seconds later, apparently over it, they could hear Dean’s voice reaching back as he sang happily.

Content, Chloe climbed up her bed and offered a triumphant grin at Sam.

"You know this isn’t going to stop him from arguing that you stay in the motel room whenever we have a case, right?” Sam told her, brow quirked.

“Don’t ruin the dream, Sam,” she told him, glaring.

He held his hands up in surrender, smiling slightly. “Okay, but he’s only looking out for you.”

“Damsel in distress has been stricken from my resume. I’d rather not a repeat.” She crossed her arms. “He’s going to have to learn I’m capable of handling myself in fight.”

“He will… It’s just going to take a lot of time and convincing…” He shrugged. “And maybe, if you didn’t want him worrying so much, you probably should’ve thought of that before you started dating him…”

Chloe rolled her eyes, but before she could say anything the door swung open and Dean sauntered out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist. As her eyes ran up and down his dripping frame, she sighed and told Sam, “Wise words, but it’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”

He laughed.

Dean raised an eyebrow, looking between them in confusion. “What?”

Chloe shook her head. “Victory pie?” she suggested.

He rubbed his hands together like an excited kid before point at her, his eyebrows hiked proudly. “You can kick demon ass any day, sweetheart!” he told her.

She shared a look with Sam; they both knew Dean’s acceptance of her hunting skills would only last as long as the pie. Still, as she watched him whistle before he gathered up his clothes and got dressed, she figured the fight was worth it. She wasn’t going anywhere.


	11. "married" [Chloe/Jax]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **prompt** : "married" - [peplumsandpitches](http://sarcasticfina.tumblr.com/post/153460622477)

Chloe’s not sure how well wedding dresses and motorcycles are going to mix, but when she leaves the church, that’s exactly what she climbs on top of. Tulle bunched up in her lap, high heels on, and hand sporting a gold band, she slides onto the back of Jax Teller’s motorcycle. 

Wrapping her arms around his waist, she says, “I appreciate the symbolism and all, but you couldn’t borrow my brother’s truck?” 

He laughs, covers one of her hands with his own and revs the engine. “Where’s the fun in that?” 

They pull away from the church, the club following behind them, hooting and hollering in support, and Chloe knows it’s not traditional. Nowhere near. But it’s exactly how she dreamed it would be when she was a little girl. Only, usually she was the one driving. 

She has to yell over the engine to tell him, and he laughs. Edging toward the curb, he asks, “You wanna switch?” 

She didn’t think she could love him more, but right then, she does. Because yes, she _does_ want to switch. So they do, and he gets to hold the tulle of her dress as they drive toward their new future.


	12. "sacrifice" [Chloe/Dean]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **prompt** : "sacrifice" - [summerpipedream](http://sarcasticfina.tumblr.com/post/33556472156)

Dean was mid-laugh, wrinkles fanning from the corners of his eyes; he dragged a hand down his mouth, scratching at the faint whiskers on his chin, a beer balanced on his knee, when the phone rang, drawing his attention.

He got up from his seat on his favorite armchair and made his way to the kitchen, pausing to tickle his son’s neck, grinning as the baby cooed up at him.

He grabbed up the phone and slid it into the cradle of his shoulder. “Hello?”

“Hey, Dean, it’s me.”

“Sammy,” he said, brightly. He glanced at the clock. “Little late for you, innit?”

“Yeah, a little. Listen… I’m going _hunting_ this weekend… Thought it could be a good bonding experience,” Sam said cryptically.

Dean’s face fell and he turned, gripping the phone tighter. “I gave that up, remember? Went vegetarian…” he muttered.

He sighed. “It’s the right season for it… But I could use some help.”

His jaw ticked and he licked his lips, turning his head. Chloe lifted Jason up into the air and pretended to bite at his dangling toes. He giggled, curling his feet up closer to him before smiling down at his mom and reaching a foot out for her to do it again. Laughing, she brought him down and rubbed her face on his belly before blowing a raspberry against his bare skin. Jason squirmed, laughing happily, freely.

“Can’t do it,” he told Sam. “I’ve got priorities now… Hunting’s out.”

“Dean… I… I get it. I get that you need to be there. But—”

“I’ve got a six month old son to worry about, Sam, I can’t risk my neck right now,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, tugging on it as a war broke out over his loyalty.

“Chloe would understand,” he tried. “She knows what this means; she’d get it.”

Frustration built up in his chest. “Yeah? And what about next time or the time after that?” His brow furrowed. “I go now, I’ll go every time… And then one day my kid’s gonna ask Chloe or _you_ , where the hell I am and why I left him.” He shook his head. “And you’re gonna say I had to go save some Average Joe’s life, that it was the right thing to do, and he’s gonna get bitter and pissed, ‘cause why the hell did some stranger matter more than him, huh?”

Sam was quiet for a long moment. “We make sacrifices, Dean… Knowing what we know, doing what we do…”

“I paid my dues,” he said through gritted teeth. “I paid with _blood_ ; mine and everybody around me… The target on my back is big enough. It’s hard as it is, makin’ sure me, Chloe, and Jason aren’t on some demon bitch’s radar and now you want to add another monster to the pile…?” His brow furrowed tightly. “I won’t sacrifice this… Not this, Sam.” His hand fisted as he rested it on the countertop and leaned into it. “Took me too long to hang up the sawed-off, I won’t pick it back up, not when everything’s finally making sense.”

“What am I supposed to do then, huh? After everything? You think I can just hang it up now? I don’t have a Chloe of my own to fall back on, Dean!”

“Then find one… Just—” He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Take some time, get your head on straight, leave the gun in someone else’s hands for a while…” He shook his head. “Sam, we’ve been doing this since we were in diapers, don’t you think we deserve this?”

He turned his eyes back to his wife and watched as Chloe bent to rub her nose against Jason’s who tangled his fingers tight in her hair. She winced at the grip but then smiled at their son and smoothed her hand over his soft sandy brown hair, kissing his temple.

“We got a spare bedroom here, and you know you’re always welcome… But I’m done with hunting. I _have_ to be…”

There was a long pause before, “Okay… I get it… I’ll call someone else in, finish the job up and then, yeah, I don’t know, maybe I’ll take you up on it, come out and visit… How big’s he getting?”

“Big,” Dean said, grinning proudly. “You should see him, he’s a character.”

Sam laughed. “I’ll call before I head down that way.”

“Great. And, uh…” He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just… just be careful, all right?”

“Been doing this since we were in diapers, remember?” he returned lightheartedly.

“Yeah…” He nodded. “ _Yeah_.”

After they hung, he dropped the phone back to the cradle and stared at it.

Jason gave a loud , excited squeal and Dean was pulled from his thoughts. He walked back into the living room and smiled as Chloe handed Jason up to him.

“Hey, buddy,” he said, cradling him in his arm.

Jason babbled at him, nonsense and gurgling mostly.

Chloe climbed from the floor, using his free hand for balanced, and smiled, smoothing her hand over Jason’s hair. “He’s always so talkative with you… It’s like he’s trying to share his wisdom.”

“Yeah?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Barkin’ up the wrong tree, little man… Your mom’s the one who informs the masses.”

She hummed, leaning into his side, head on his shoulder. “Sam?” she said, less of a question and more of a statement.

“Yeah…” He nodded, rocking Jason in his arm. “Got a job, wanted a hand.”

“But you’re not going.”

He glanced at her. “I got too much at stake to go chasing monsters.”

She peered up at him. “But you want to.”

He licked his lips. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. Shaking his head, he flashed his eyebrows. “Some days I think I hung up the gun for good, others I think there’s no such thing as retirement…” He shrugged. “Today’s one of those days.”

“You could go,” she told him, reaching down to tickle her fingers over Jason’s chest. “It’s not just any job… This is helping _Sam_ out…” She looked up at him. “If you don’t go and he gets hurt, you’ll never stop beating yourself up over it.”

He ground his teeth. “I know…” He dropped his eyes down to their son, who was getting sleepier, his babbling coming to an end. “But I promised you when you got pregnant that I’d be here for you and for him… I don’t wanna be like my dad; I don’t want to leave him wondering if I’m ever coming home… I wanna see him grow up…” He turned to her. “I spent my whole life hunting and in the end, all I got was a promise that my job would never really end… So I traded up and I found you.” He stared at her seriously. “You and Jason, Chloe, you’re the only relief I’ve got after that and I’m not going to abandon it so I can chase after everything I’m trying to get away from.”

“And I get that.” She nodded, before tugging on his sleeve to get him to follow her down the hall to the nursery. “I just don’t want us to be a regret if things don’t go according to plan.”

She leaned her hip against the crib as he laid Jason down inside, rubbing his thumb over his son’s forehead and gazing at him for a long moment. She turned on the baby monitor before they left the room quietly and she took his hand, leading him down the hall to their bedroom.

They laid down on the bed, side by side, and she propped her head up on her arm against the pillow, turning to look at him. “I want you to be sure about this.”

He nodded, licking his lips, brow furrowed. “Sam’s gonna call someone else in, they’ll smoke the bastard, and then he’s heading out here to visit…” He turned his eyes to her. “I’m sure… My life isn’t hunting anymore… My life is you. And Jason. And the shop…” He shook his head. “I fix cars and I come home to my hot wife and my amazing son…” He grinned at her. “That’s what I want.”

She sighed, lips twitching up into a smile, and slid across the bed to drop her head to his shoulder, her leg looping around his and her arm curving around his waist. Dean ducked his head to kiss her hair and closed his eyes.

“Nap time?” he asked.

She smiled against his chest. “I’m betting on an hour, two tops…”

“Bet you an apple pie he sleep for three,” he said.

“Three?” She scoffed. “You’re on.” She laughed and rubbed her face against his chest as she settled in for a nap. “Either way you get pie.”

He grinned. “Those are the breaks, sweetheart.”

She chuckled lightly before it faded into a yawn.

He rubbed a hand down her back in soothing circles and stared up at the ceiling as he felt her fall asleep, relaxing against him. It didn’t feel right, to turn Sam down, but at the same time he knew he wouldn’t feel right the whole time he was on the road with him. Maybe he was still making sacrifices; Sammy for his son. Maybe sacrifices were all he’d ever make. But he reminded himself that Sam was coming down and maybe he’d ‘retire’ too… Maybe all the Winchesters could quit playing the martyr and find a way to be content and happy.

Dean found his salvation; he found his reward for all the blood and tears shed, the family and friends lost.

When he met Chloe, he was down on his luck, stuck between applying for a job at a mechanics shop and a hunting job three days drive away. She found him on his third slice of pie: “I’m pretty sure food for thought wasn’t supposed to be taken so literally…” She raised an eyebrow. “You need an ear before you have to be forklifted into an ambulance?” she wondered.

He was lost from the get-go and it hadn’t changed since. Four years later and they had a kid. _Him_. He was a _dad_. There were times it made him miss Ben; made him want to call him, see how he was doing, only to realize he couldn’t. That Ben didn’t remember him. So he did better with Jason; he made sure he was there for every milestone; ever burp, fart, and hiccup; every laugh, cry, smile, and frown. He was constantly amazed by how he and Chloe had made this amazing little guy who laughed so freely, untouched by the cruelty he’d seen in the world. He planned on keeping it that way.

Which meant no hunting; no slinking away in the dead of night and returning a week later without explanation. He was just going to be Dean, average Joe. A husband and a dad and a brother; nothing else but that.

Chloe sighed in her sleep and snuggled a little closer.

Dean ran his fingers through her hair and brushed them down her neck before letting his own eyes finally fall closed.

In a week, Sam would come to visit, hopefully stay, and life would go on. Other hunters would fill the big shoes they left behind and he would go on in the life he’d carved out, free of shadows. It wouldn’t always be perfect and the call to fight would be loud some days, but he would remain, he would be happy, and he wouldn’t sacrifice himself anymore.


End file.
